Is There a Blessing with My Name on It?

Every Father’s Day, our family gathers together, and one of my favorite traditions is reading a letter I write to everyone in our family.

Throughout the year, I write individual letters to my children and grandchildren during significant moments in their lives. But on Father’s Day, I write one letter that includes everyone: my daughters, sons by marriage, and grandchildren. I tell them where I’ve seen God at work in their lives, what I admire about them, and I share a passage of Scripture I’m praying over them for the coming year.

This past Father’s Day, something happened that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

As I read the letter, everyone leaned in. My daughters. My sons by marriage. My grandchildren. Even with four little ones under the age of two becoming restless, no one wanted to leave the room.

Then my eight-year-old grandson, Christopher, interrupted me.

“Poppi,” he asked, “did you write about everybody?”

I smiled. “Of course I did.”

His face lit up.

“Good,” he said, “because I can’t wait to hear mine.”

The room laughed, but later that evening I realized Christopher wasn’t asking only a child’s question.

He was asking the question every human heart asks:

“Is there a blessing with my name on it?”

Do you see me?

Do I matter?

Do you delight in me?

Do you believe God has a purpose for my life?

That longing is what makes the story of Genesis 27 so powerful.

The chapter tells the story of an aging father named Isaac who is preparing to give his final blessing to his oldest son, Esau. In that culture, a father’s blessing wasn’t simply a farewell or kind words. It was a spoken declaration of identity, purpose, and God’s favor over a person’s life.

But before Isaac can bless Esau, his wife, Rebekah, overhears the conversation. Afraid God’s plan won’t happen, she convinces their younger son, Jacob, to disguise himself as his brother and deceive his father into giving him the blessing instead.

Jacob lies.

Isaac is deceived.

Esau returns too late and realizes the blessing has already been given.

The chapter ends with Esau weeping, crying out to his father, “Bless me… me also.”

He wasn’t grieving over lost money or property.

He was grieving because someone else had received the words his heart had always hoped to hear.

The story reminds us that while parents can fail us, God never does.

In fact, the greatest blessing isn’t one we receive from an earthly father.

It’s the one we receive through our Heavenly Father.

Because of Jesus Christ, God speaks words over everyone who places their faith in Him:

“You are chosen.”

“You are loved.”

“You are forgiven.”

“You are Mine.”

Those are the words every soul longs to hear. As I finished my Father’s Day letter, I realized something.

Christopher’s question wasn’t just about a letter.

It was about belonging.

It was about being seen.

It was about knowing there was something written especially for him.

Maybe that’s the question you’ve been carrying too.

The beautiful truth of the Gospel is that there is.

Before anyone overlooked you, God saw you.

Before anyone failed you, God loved you.

Before you accomplished anything, He sent His Son so you could become part of His family.

This week, I want to encourage you to do two things.

First, remember the blessing God has already spoken over you through Christ.

Then, become someone who speaks blessings into the lives of others.

Tell someone, “I thank God for you.”

Tell your child, your spouse, your friend, or your parent, “I see God at work in your life.”

Those words may become one of the greatest gifts they ever receive.

Because sometimes the blessing people are waiting to hear has been entrusted to your voice.

This blog captures only part of the story. Click VIEW  to watch the complete sermon from July 19, 2026.